Page 36 of The Snow Witch

‘Yet here she stands!’ bellowed the man at the front of the procession, the man on horseback. ‘With a bloodied dagger in her hand. Enchantrix!’

A zigzag of lightning hit somewhere behind them and the crowd gasped as it coincided perfectly with a rumble of thunder, the loudest and closest yet.

‘She is causing a storm!’ yelled someone. ‘She will direct the lightning to strike us. The Snow Witch will kill us all.’

‘No!’ Meggie shouted. ‘Charles Milburn tried to attack me! He⁠—’

But the words died on her lips and two men came towards her. One twisted her arm behind her back to make her drop the dagger and the other grabbed her by the hair.

Meggie screamed.

The clouds turned midnight black above them.

Then there was an almighty crack, the sky lit up with flashes of green, purple and orange and snow began pouring from the heavens, just as one of the stones which surrounded the Well fractured from top to bottom.

The crowd bellowed in terror, falling over one another as they tried to scramble away from the crumbling, broken stone.

‘She has summoned Satan!’ yelled someone. ‘Stop her witchcraft!’

The cries multiplied, bouncing around the dip by the Well: Witch, Devil, Demon…

And then, the most terrifying shout of all: ‘She must die here, and die today! Justice must be done.’

23

NOW

Jake and Violet stood outside the Old Gaol, Violet completely confused as to what she should do. She knew that a hot drink would probably be very welcome right now, but equally, she wanted to escape from Hexham just as soon as she could. Images of so-called witches, chained to the wall, were in her mind, and she could still feel the fear and energy emanating from the building.

The sky had turned a pinky-orange and the temperature was dropping, even as the coloured sky tipped the edges of the white and grey clouds, so she made that the excuse to leave the town.

‘Looks like it’s getting a bit cold and icy. We might get more snow,’ she said to Jake, turning and beginning to walk back towards the car park. ‘I don’t want to get caught in it. I’ll drop you back at the van.’

‘Oh! Yes. Of course.’ Jake fell into step next to her. ‘I don’t suppose that many people have climbed out of that dungeon on a set of ladders before. A trip to remember.’

Violet pulled a face. ‘Or forget.’

‘It wasn’t that bad. We were only in there a couple of minutes. I know it felt longer, though.’

‘It wasn’t the fact that we were in there,’ said Violet. ‘It was the fact that I didn’t feel we were alone. That was what was freaking me out.’

‘Alone? Well, I guess there were other visitors there. And the chap who helped us out.’

‘That’s not what I meant.’ They were walking down the steep, cobbled hill now. Instead of holding her hand to haul her up it, Jake now took hold of her hand to steady her as they slipped a little on the cobbles. Violet was grateful for the touch. ‘I meant that it felt spooky there. Like old prisoners were still lingering.’ Like witches shackled to the walls. ‘Like Jane Martin was hanging around.’

‘Poor choice of words.’

Jake was correct; Violet flinched at the images of over a dozen people swinging from a scaffold on the Town Moor. ‘That’s not what I meant.’

‘I know. But there was nothing down there, although I get how spooky it was with all the lights out. I’m glad I wasn’t a prisoner in those days.’

‘I just couldn’t help thinking about the Witch Trials as well. That exhibition made it real. Those poor people. How awful it would have been to be in that situation – accused of doing witchcraft, for God’s sake, just because you were different or disliked. It’s dreadful.’

‘I know.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘Inhuman. And the fact those bastards were paid per witch – what the hell did they expect? Of course it would be carnage.’

‘Mass murder, if you ask me.’

‘You’re right.’